Star Trek: Fortune's Challenge
by LeoN1981
Summary: After commanding the aged U.S.S. Hathaway Commander Landon McAllister is given command of the U.S.S. Fortuna NX-77721. This story references events and characters from other Star Trek TV shows and movies, but follows only original characters. I'm working with a writers group on this one, and will probably update monthly - comments are encouraged.
1. Chapter 1

**Star Trek: Fortune's Glory  
Chapter One: A Fortune of Hardship**

**Utopia Plantia Shipyards**

From the reviewing compartment of Cradle 37G of the Utopia Plantia Shipyards in orbit of Mars Rear Admiral, Lower-Half P'Vel considered the starship that was maneuvering to enter. Behind her was a delegation of twenty Starfleet Officers and Senior Enlisted who had come to pay their respects to the oldest active starship on the day she was to be decommissioned for what they all hoped was the last time. She considered what she knew of the 102 year-old _Constellation_-class star cruiser _U.S.S. Hathaway_ NCC-2593, and of its current commanding officer, acting-Lieutenant Landon McAllister while she relayed the facts about the ship to the gathered men, women, and transgender delegation.

Commissioned in 2285 at the Copernicus Ship Yards on Earth's moon the _U.S.S. Hathaway_ had been tasked with patrolling the neutral zone between Federation and Klingon space, serving with distinction in that function. As the ship aged the warp nacelles had been replaced and key systems updated, but eventually the time came to pull it from the front and the _Hathaway_ was given new assignments, mostly resupplying the ships that replaced it on the front. In 2364, at the age of 80 years, orders came down for the ship to be decommissioned. The crew of the starship had abandoned it as soon as their orders came through, with only a few remaining on station to guide her into the maintenance cradle at the Proxima Ship Yards. Crews from Proxima were the ones to remove the warp core and strip the ship of weapons, but before they could finish the _Hathaway_ was called into service again.

Operation: Lovely Angel had been a training exercise, consisting of a series of mock battles staged between the Captains of active starships and their First Officers, with the First Officer using the _Hathaway_ as the second ship in the exercise. First up had been the _U.S.S. Enterprise_ NCC-1701-D, under the command of Jean-Luc Picard, and it had been his crew who reactivated the aged starship. Many other Captains would run through the scenarios using the _Hathaway_ as well, and for two years it served in a training function.

"The entire class as a whole is unlovely to behold, under powered, and frequently out-paced and outgunned by passing commercial freighters," Captain Picard muttered affectionately from his place in the delegation. He had served 22 years as the Commanding Officer of the _Constellation_-class _U.S.S. Stargazer_ NCC-2893, and seemed nostalgic about the entire series of _Constellation_ starships.

After Operation: Lovely Angel concluded in 2367 orders had come through to decommission the 82 year-old ship, and the crews at Proxima had gotten as far as ejecting the warp core before the ship was once again called into service. The core was replaced with a newer model, the training weapons replaced with live torpedoes and actual phaser banks, and a crew assigned. Admiral P'Vel's experience with the ship began here, as she joined the new crew as the Helmswoman – the assignment being to support a fleet of starships led by the _U.S.S. Enterprise_ tasked with creating a tachyon detection grid between the Klingon and Romulan borders in hopes of preventing the escalation of a Klingon civil war. The House of Duros had instigated the war with the backing of the Romulans, so preventing supply shipments and documenting proof of House Duros' treachery had been the primary purpose of the fleet. Unable to assist in the grid itself, the _Hathaway_ was assigned supply runs – gathering needed supplies that the newer starships could not retrieve themselves because they had to remain on station.

It is unknown how much the _Hathaway_'s involvement affected the success of the operation, but full war was averted in the Klingon Empire, and the 83 year-old starship was sent back to the shipyard. Unfortunately, later that same year Starfleet was devastated by a Borg invasion, the single greatest disaster coming at the Battle of Wolf 359 in which 39 ships of the line were destroyed by a single Borg cube under the command of an assimilated Jean-Luc Picard. Though the threat was eventually destroyed, the damage to the fleet was such that even _Constitution_-class vessels were pulled from storage and refitted for active service. P'Vel would continue her service aboard for the next seven years, moving up in rank and position until she was the Executive Officer at the rank of Lieutenant Commander.

Like before, as soon as the decommission order came down the crew started abandoning the ship, making their way to their next assignment. The Captain led this defection, staying long enough to officially place P'Vel in acting-Command and charging her with seeing the ship safely delivered to the Utopia Plantia Shipyards in Mars orbit. With just a skeleton crew she had accomplished the task, but as soon as she ship was secure the remainder of the crew departed. P'Vel's next assignment was an attaché position at Starfleet Command, on Earth, and as she did not have to go far she chose to take her time in packing up her quarters.

She was therefore surprised when an alert had been called over the internal communications, and she made the short walk to the bridge to ask the crew from the shipyard there what was going on. Unfortunately, they were as clueless as she was, so moving to the Operations Station she requested the information directly from Utopia Plantia control.

"A Borg cube is being tracked on a course for Earth, Vice Admiral Hayes has assembled a fleet in the Typhon Sector, but all warp capable starships are to stand by incase the Borg made it through the fleet," control responded.

Checking, she noted that the warp core had not been ejected and responded, "Control, the _U.S.S. Hathaway_ is warp capable and stands ready. Please release the maintenance arms."

A moment later the attenuated arms that were holding the ship to the maintenance cradle were removed, demonstrating the seriousness of the situation.

To the crew of enlisted men and women on the bridge she announced, "Until further notice you are the crew of this ship. Take your posts."

None of the crew moved, and one even demanded, "This is a Vulcan joke, right? You can't seriously believe that an 88 year-old starship has even the slightest possibility of making a difference in a shootout with the Borg!"

A Jeffries tube access plate popped open then, and a young Trill in Starfleet Academy gold crawled out to explain, "The Commander knows that, and she's not asking us to go into combat – we are standing by to provide rescue and recovery services for the ships of the line. Right, Lieutenant Commander?"

One of the Petty Officers leaned over to look inside the maintenance shaft, perhaps checking for more cadets.

"That is correct," she'd answered, wondering how anyone could have misunderstood her reasoning in the first place.

"Well then, Third Year Cadet Landon McAllister reporting for duty, Captain," the Cadet said, snapping to attention. She'd found his family name interesting in the moment – half-Trills were quite uncommon, having come onto the galactic stage a half-century earlier, and to have a human family name meant that he was either a hybrid or had been adopted into a human family. The obsidian black of his iris' were a testament to the first option, or perhaps both; he was also quite young for a 3rd year Cadet – perhaps 18 years old, meaning that his test scores had been sufficient to warrant early admission to the Academy - but she'd had neither the time nor the inclination to pry in the moment.

"Take OPS, Cadet, and open a channel to all stations," she ordered, moving to the command chair. "This is Lieutenant Commander P'Vel on the bridge: until further notice I am taking command of this ship. After six years the Borg are attempting to make a second attempt to assimilate the Federation, and we have been ordered to stand by. We will not be engaging in combat operations; instead, prepare for rescue and recovery actions. Please secure your stations for departure. Bridge out.

Officers began to arrive, relieving the enlisted men of the bridge positions, but when an officer attempted to take Operations from the cadet she ordered, "No, let him stay at the post." Checking the list of stations that had reported in she ordered, "I need you down in Engineering."

"Aye, Captain," the officer said, clapping McAllister on the shoulder before departing the bridge.

"Helm, one-quarter impulse power," she announced while taking her seat at the middle of the bridge, "once clear of the maintenance cradle make for the storage containers in Blue Alpha. Tactical, contact Starfleet Medical and have a medical team assembled on Mars – beam them directly to sickbay. Operations, Cadet McAllister, search Utopia Plantia's inventory and beam aboard any parts you feel would be essential to the repair of modern starships."

He nodded, looking a little green, but tasked the computer with giving him a list of components most likely destroyed during combat while the ship continued to maneuver.

Beaming aboard not only essential components but additional work crews, the _U.S.S. Hathaway _had been ready for when the Borg cube managed to reach Sector 001, the remainder of the fleet in close pursuit and the ships from the various shipyards and Space Dock all converging to engage. Remaining on the fringes of the battle, P'Vel and her impromptu crew evacuated personnel from critically damaged ships and beamed essential components and personnel to those ships that could be saved, including the _U.S.S. Defiant_ and _U.S.S. Enterprise_, among other notable starships. In the end it was determined that the actions of the _Hathaway_ resulted in the rescue of 982 Starfleet officers and enlisted, and the successful recovery of 6 ships of the line.

For her part, P'Vel had been offered a promotion of Commander with the promise of a further promotion and a new command when one became available. Twenty-seven ships had been lost to the Borg, and new ships were in short supply with several Captains and Commanders ahead of her on the list of Command Postings, so she had requested that the _U.S.S. Hathaway_ be made available until a new ship could come up. She'd also made the request that Cadet McAllister be allowed to finish out his Cadet Cruise on board, serving as her Operations Officer – a major posting for someone who hadn't graduated the Academy.

Half-Trill, and a quarter-Betazoid and Human, McAllister was a 'touch-empath', capable of reading what he called 'residual empathic residue' on objects. P'Vel had been skeptical, but the proof had mounted as the Cadet identified and repaired defective maintenance performed by her previous crew. His motto being that repairs should be made with the understanding that the component would be replaced in the future; whereas the motto of the old crew had been that the ship would be decommissioned before their repairs would need to be replaced. The difference was marked in the performance of the ship and morale of the crew.

Months later the Gamma Quadrant government known as the Dominion, sensing that the Federation was weakened, declared war on the entire Alpha Quadrant. McAllister returned to the Academy where he completed his studies, graduating with honors and given the rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade. With his experience and test scores he could have served on any ship of the fleet, but he accepted an invitation from P'Vel to return to the _Hathaway_. For the remainder of the Dominion War the ship crossed the length and breadth of the Federation, resupplying and providing aid to the ships of the line. It even participated in Operation: Return – the joint taskforce assigned to regain control of Deep Space Nine.

At wars' end in 2375 P'Vel had been promoted to Captain and assigned command of the _Intrepid_-class _U.S.S. Sarek_. While not strictly a 'new' ship, the _Sarek_ did fulfill the conditions promised. Her own Executive Officer, Lieutenant Commander Ryken Tan accepted a promotion to Commander and a post as the XO of the _U.S.S. Farragut_. The Vulcan officer had been conflicted over personnel decisions, particularly in the case of Lieutenant McAllister. Over the course of the war she'd promoted him to Lieutenant Senior Grade, and placed him as 2nd Officer in addition to his duties as the Chief of Operations. His service under her command had been exemplary, and she considered bringing him with her, but had decided to make the pragmatic choice to leave him on the 90 year-old _Hathaway_ to provide continuity for the new Commanding Officer. She did, however, leave a recommendation for her replacement that McAllister should be promoted and appointed XO.

She'd lost track of her first command in the rush to recover from the war, and learned of what had happened next after the fact. Command had been given to Command Ronald Drake with the same promise of a promotion and new ship when one became available. Drake had chosen to ignore her recommendation and instead promoted his friend, Lieutenant Commander Jrr'kyr to the post. Both had been Peregrine fighter pilots during the Dominion War, stationed aboard the _Akira_-class U_.S.S. Thunderchild,_ and had come up through the ranks quickly.

As Captain Picard had said, the entire class had been underpowered from the start, and even with Lieutenant McAllister and the chief of engineering, Lieutenant Geert, making modificaitons that drastically improved the ship's performance the _U.S.S. Hathaway_ could not compete with newer designs – a fact that dragged on Commander Drake. P'Vel could clearly remember the warped deck plates and the way the turbolift would jerk as it became momentarily stuck between decks. Focused on making Captain before he turned 30, Drake felt that his career was stalling, and the longer he spent onboard the more crippled his career was. This mindset prompted the Commander to make questionable command decisions, including the foregoing of scheduled maintenance in order to engage in alerts that sent the ship back and forth across Federation space. He engaged the ship in combat actions, and it was only though the care of the ship's crew that it managed come through these conflicts at all.

Worried about the direction Drake was taking, Lieutenant McAllister confronted his CO in private, stressing that the ship could not survive in the long term if the Commander did not change his course. Instead of listening to the counsel of the ship's Operations Officer the Commander brought McAllister up on charges of Insubordination and Dereliction of Duty, citing every time that McAllister had argued an order, but withheld the specifics. Drake also contacted his friends at Starfleet Command and had them block any other information concerning the Lieutenant. With only the negative reports in hand it would seem that the Operations Officer was inciting insubordination and dragging down the morale of the _Hathaway_'s crew, so Command agreed with Commander Drake's recommendation that Landon McAllister be reduced in rank to Ensign and relieved from the position of Operations Officer.

This had two affects onboard ship – one: it reduced the efficiency of the ship as no one knew the modified and patchwork systems better than its former OPS Chief, and two: it decreased the morale of the crew, who all liked and respected McAllister.

Serving as an Ensign, McAllister was assigned to Engineering, and Lieutenant Geert was given orders that the junior officer was to be given the worst assignments – tasks like mucking out plasma conduits and deuterium tanks. They were the types of assignments usually assigned to the lowest of enlisted crewmen or as punishments. Geert, a Tellarite, did as he was ordered, keeping the Ensign working 12, 14, sometimes 16 hours, but he also kept a log of every assignment, and was sure to make note whenever McAllister exceeded expectations. Beyond the punishments, Geert began instructing the Ensign on the finer points of engineering that an Operations Officer would have had no business knowing. It wasn't long before the two were engaging in the Tellarite national sport – Debate!

Their arguments could get pretty involved, but it never turned to blows, and for the Engineering crews who understood the subject of the debates it was both entertaining and educational. As his understanding of warp theory improved Ensign McAllister actually managed to win some of the arguments.

Meanwhile, as the performance of the ship continued to drop off, Drake's questionable command decisions continued to escalate, coming to a head in 2378 when the _U.S.S. Hathaway_ responded to Admiral Paris' call to arms to head off a third Borg assault on the Alpha Quadrant. The Admiral anticipated heavy casualties, so he ordered Drake to provide support, but by this point the Commander was so desperate for recognition that when the Borg Sphere exited the trans-warp conduit he moved his ship into attack position, blocking the firing solution of several larger ships. Despite the fact that the fleet was saved from damage by the _U.S.S. Voyager_ destroying the sphere from within, the action disturbed Admiral Paris. Following the encounter the Admiral requested an inquiry into Commander Roland Drake and the _Hathaway._

When the investigator arrived he was presented with the reports from every division chief, and the personal logs of almost every crewman aboard, and within a week the decision was made to remove Drake from the ship entirely while the investigation continued. Lieutenant Commander Jrr'kyr was tasked with assuming command pending an outcome, and the Cathar officer sensed that his friend's career was essentially over, so he chose to distance himself from the command style of his superior officer. After discussing the situation with the Command Staff Jrr'kyr chose to follow their recommendations and gave McAllister a field promotion to Lieutenant Senior Grade, followed by appointing the hybrid to acting-First Officer.

Although neither action was confirmed by Command, the gesture had the effect of improving morale aboard ship, especially among the Operations and Engineering Divisions. Working together they pair began to turn the ship around by seeing to the repairs and maintenance that had been ignored in favor of Commander Drake's agenda. Before the end of the investigation period the crew had begun to characterize their service aboard the 93 year-old starship as a 'Starfleet Heritage Cruise'.

"I mean, where else can you serve where 23rd century components are married to 24th century counterparts in a way that actually works!" one crewmember would argue.

Humans would characterize it as ironic that Commander Drake's friends at Starfleet Command had been postponing his promotion and transfer until a _Sovereign_-class starship became available, but P'Vel just characterized it as a waste.

By 2379 the performance and morale onboard the ship had been completely turned around when an alert was posted – the _U.S.S. Enterprise_ was engaging the _I.R.S. Scimitar_, the flagship of the Romulan Pretor Shinzon, at the Bassen Rift. Lieutenant Commander Jrr'kyr listened to the advice of his XO and Command Staff, pausing only long enough to take on critical components and additional engineering teams before going to the aid of Starfleet's flagship. Even though they did not engage in combat operations the components and personnel made it possible for the heavily damaged _Enterprise_ to make the trip to a shipyard where more through repairs would be made. Captain Picard even filed a glowing commendation for the LTC and the crew of the _Constellation_-class vessel.

This commendation had prompted Command to promote Jrr'kyr, and the Cathar was offered the position of 2nd Officer aboard the _U.S.S. Prometheus_, which he accepted.

Unfortunately, this left the _Hathaway_ in something of an administrative limbo as McAllister had not been confirmed in either his rank or position by Starfleet Command. The ship continued to receive orders that sent it across Federation on every axis of the grid, and at the request of the Command Staff Landon McAllister assumed the position of Commanding Officer. Modifications were made that kept the ship operational while other ships of the _Constitution-, Constellation-, and Miranda-_classes were pulled from active duty until the _U.S.S. Hathaway_ had the dubious honor of being identified as the oldest ship in active service.

This would continue for 7 years, over which time most of the crew would be transferred and replaced, ending in 2386 when P'Vel was promoted to the rank of Rear Admiral Lower-Half and assigned to Starfleet Command, having served a total of 10 years aboard the _U.S.S. Sarek_. It had been her intent to invite Lieutenant McAllister to be a member of her staff, but she had been shocked to learn that even though it had been proved that Drake's reports had been falsified the accusations had not been pulled from McAllister's record: as far as Command was concerned the brilliant officer she had worked with was still an ensign assigned to engineering. She had requested her own inquiry, which had brought to light the fact that the _Hathaway_ was outperforming all expectations for a ship over a century old.

Starfleet Engineering was intrigued, and sent orders for the ship to be decommissioned for study – even outside active service the _Hathaway_ would have a duty.

McAllister began pulling every favor he'd accumulated over the years, ensuring that his current crew would have assignments that each individual would find favorable: Deep Space Nine, Jupiter Station, Space Dock, Starfleet Command, Starfleet Academy, Embassies and starships, including 3 postings aboard the _U.S.S. Enterprise_! Even with those choice assignments waiting none of the crew abandoned their post as previous crews had done – in a staggering show of loyalty they all remained aboard to take part in the official decommissioning ceremony. She had made sure to point the actions of the crew out to her superiors.

In the present the _U.S.S. Hathaway_ glided into the maintenance cradle that would be her home for the foreseeable future, achieving full stop and maneuvering for station keeping so that the attenuated arms of the cradle could secure the sip in place. She could see that all attempts had been made to make the outer hull of the ship appear new, the lights were on in every window and the running lights blazed. As a pressurized boarding tube was extended the Admiral admitted to herself that the ship had never looked so good in all the time she'd been aboard it.

Leading the precession she paused at the airlock to be piped aboard, taking in the appearance of the crew flanking the hall – all in their best dress uniforms. Stepping aboard she noted that the warped floor panels had been replaced, the side panels as well and all the overhead lights provided steady illumination. The only thing she found lacking was the appearance of acting-Lieutenant McAllister, noting the gold oval with the two black bars that represented his rank, and the gold piping of the Operations Division on his uniform. Despite that the man seemed to be in good spirits as he stood at attention and announced, "Welcome back to the _Hathaway_, Admiral. Would you like a tour of the ship?"

"I would not," she answered, going on to explain, "While I am sure that your crew has worked hard to make the ship shine I am also certain that they are eager to begin the next phases of their own careers. However, members of this delegation would likely be educated by a tour, but Captain Picard, yourself and I, have business on the bridge."

He nodded, gesturing for her to lead and saying, "I believe that you know the way."

She led the way to the turbolift, through the clean corridors that had a somewhat antiseptic smell, and the turbolift itself moved smoothly and quietly – something she hadn't expected. When they reached the bridge McAllister stepped out first and called the officers to attention. Like the crewmen she had seen in the corridors the command crew, including the Chief of Engineering – who should have been in engineering anticipating a formal tour – wore their dress uniforms. The acting-Lieutenant had anticipated her decision, and planned accordingly.

"As you were," the Admiral called after she'd taken a moment to survey them. "I apologize for this, but before we conduct the decommissioning ceremony there is something that I feel compelled to take care of first. Operations; please open communications to all stations."

"Aye, Admiral," the young woman at the Operations station called back, "Channel open."

"Attention to orders," she said for the whole crew to hear, "This is to certify that all charges filed against Lieutenant McAllister by Commander Ronald Drake have been dropped, and that he is retroactively returned to the rank of Lieutenant Senior Grade as of the day of his demotion. Furthermore, he is retroactively promoted to the rank of Lieutenant Commander and confirmed as Commanding Officer of the _U.S.S. Hathaway_ NCC-2593, starting the date he assumed command from Commander Jrr'kyr."

Stepping forward she removed the gold plate from his collar and replaced it with two solid gold circles and one gold circle with a black core that combined would identify his rank. There was applause throughout the bridge, which was probably being echoed in every corner of the ship. Waiving for quiet and then waiting for a count of 10 for the rest of the crew to quiet down she added, "Lieutenant Commander Landon McAllister, in response to your excellent service as Commander of the _Hathaway_ these past 7 years you are hereby promoted to Commander."

Removing the spotted circle and replacing it with a solid one she added, "Congratulations, Commander McAllister."

"Thank you, Admiral," the junior officer said, unable to help himself from reaching up to touch the symbols that as far as she was concerned should have been there for years now.

"Now that we have that taken care of, Captain Picard, Commander McAllister, please input your codes to eject the warp core. Operations, confirm with Utopia Plantia Control that worker-bees are standing by," Admiral P'Vel ordered.

"Status of worker-bee shuttles confirmed, Admiral," the OPS officer reported.

Both of the officers she'd identified entered their identification codes on a Library Computer Access and Retrieval (LCAR) screen to authorize the release, and then it was her turn to enter her code, causing a section of the hull to detach so that the ship's primary power source could slide out under vacuum pressure. The main view screen showed small yellow shuttles snag both the hull plate and the core, removing the core from the area while replacing the plate.

To the crew she announced, "This ends the decommissioning ceremony of the _U.S.S. Hathaway_: I am aware that for many of you this has been a difficult assignment, but it is through adversity that character is revealed. Also certain is that the skills and knowledge you gained on board will serve you well in your service to Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets. Save for those conducting tours, the crew is released to make their way to their next assignments. Admiral P'Vel out."

"The channel is closed, Admiral," the Operations officer announced, beaming as she rose from her position to congratulate Commander McAllister, and a moment later the turbolift door opened to admit another group of officers and crew, all come to pay their respects to their now former commanding officer.

Placing her hand on his shoulder P'Vel told him, "Landon, please meet me in the ready room when things calm down."

"Yes, Admiral," he answered, surprised by the familiarity, but he was soon mobbed by crewmen all wanting to shake his hand and have photos taken.

The captain's study was separated from the bridge by a single door – small by any standards the room actually seemed larger than when she'd occupied this space because there was not a single decoration to be seen, and even without empathic senses the Vulcan woman suspected that McAllister had refrained from putting a personal touch on the room. He had likely been waiting for a command that would have returned him to Ensign and likely ended his entire Starfleet career. Moving to the desk she cued up the information she wanted to discuss on the LCAR screen, then looked out the window to the next maintenance cradle over.

It took nearly an hour, but eventually the Commander entered, saying, "Admiral, Commander Landon McAllister reporting as ordered."

"At ease, Commander," she said, turning and gesturing to the seat next to the desk rather than the one in front of it, seating herself as he did. "You've come a long way from the Cadet who stepped so dramatically onto that bridge 14 years ago."

He smiled at the memory, admitting, "I never did collect the fungal growths I was tasked to be gathering that day."

"Command recognizes how far you've come, too, Landon," she told the junior officer, sliding a personal access data device across the desk for him to review, "They are at something of a loss as to just where to place you next, and I requested that you be given the choice."

Taking the PADD he reviewed the information, muttering aloud some of choices, "2nd Officer, _U.S.S. Prometheus_; Executive Officer, _U.S.S. Sovereign_; 3rd Officer, _U.S.S. Enterprise_; Chief of Operations, Deep Space Nine; attaché position, Starfleet Command, assigned to your office, Admiral?" She nodded, and he continued down the list to "Command, _U.S.S. Fortuna_? I don't understand, you just promoted me to Commander; or was that supposed to be retroactive, too?"

"I'm afraid that the position does not come with a promotion," she admitted, gesturing out the window to the next maintenance cradle over. "The _U.S.S. Fortuna_ NX-77721 is an experimental design that unfortunately does not have the support of SFC – it has been what humans call 'moth-balled' and left lingering here at Utopia Plantia."

"She looks like a squid," McAllister mused as he looked out in the direction she'd indicated.

The ship did indeed resemble a cephalopod, having an ellipsoid body fronted by a spade-shape and possessing four long pylons that were completely disproportionate to the size of the ship, topped by warp nacelles that were almost as long as the ship itself. "By that logic all starships look like squids," she countered, "But, yes, it does bear a more striking resemblance to that Class of creature than most starships."

"With nacelles that large it would be able to put up a huge warp envelope – far larger than a ship that size would need," he commented, showing far more incite than when he'd been her OPS officer, and tasked the PADD to learn more. "What was she designed to do?"

"'She' was designed during the Dominion War to perform high-risk rescue and recovery operations," Admiral P'Vel said, choosing to anthropomorphize the ship as he did with a feminine designation. "The idea was that the ship would warp into a combat zone and evacuate the secondary hulls of critically damaged vessels."

"But the war ended before the ship was complete," the Commander noted as he reviewed the data. "Just 12 decks, Spartan accommodations, most of the internal space taken up by an oversized warp core, sickbay and cargo space; I can understand why officers would turn down the command. No holodeck, that means that most crew would turn down the assignment as well; so, no crew and no command staff."

"The first order of business for any Commanding Officer would be to assemble a crew, and the next would be to travel to the Beta Anteries Shipyards to retrieve the secondary hull from the _Nebula_-class _U.S.S. Leeds_. The _Leeds_ has recently developed a defect in its warp drive and is being pulled from active service while the fault is tracked and repaired."

"_Nebula_- and _Galaxy_-classes share the same saucer section," the Commander considered, shaking his head. "The secondary hull would have five times the internal space as the primary hull." He sounded disgusted, and she could tell that he was imagining the broad oval of the saucer section connected to the long-legged engineering section of the _Fortuna_. The upper and lower nacelles would barely clear dish.

"It does, however, possess the laboratories and crew amenities needed to make the _U.S.S. Fortuna_ a credit to the Federation," she reasoned. "Whoever takes command will have to face many difficulties, but the right person can overcome those difficulties. While I would be pleased to have you as part of my staff, Landon, it would be a disservice to Starfleet for me not to say that I believe you would be the right man for this post."

He scratched the back of his head, an unconscious gesture, before admitting, "I have to think about it, Admiral. My plan was to take some time off to consider my options, and you've given me a lot more to think about."

"Take all the time you need, Landon," she told him, rising and extending her hand in fellowship, "But don't take too long, and please feel free to contact me if you have any questions or concerns."

"I will, Admiral, thank you," he replied, shaking her hand, "But I've got a sense that everything I've faced before will be nothing compared to what I'm about to get myself into."

**End Chapter One: A Fortune of Hardship**


	2. Misfits

**Star Trek: Fortune's Challenge****  
Chapter Two: Gathering Misfits**

_**U.S.S. Fortuna**_** - McAllister**

There was no angle at which the ship became anything but unlovely. From above the ship looked like a squid, but from the front or side the connector designed to link the engineering section to the saucer looked like a shovel head. An oversized deflector dish pushed forward from the fuselage under the connector, the hull extended backwards into an ellipsoid. Near the midpoint the pylons flared out from the body, the bottom two dropping down at a shallow angle while the upper pair rose at a steep angle. Between the flaring bases of the upper pylons was the door to the shuttle hanger.

Phaser emitters had been built into the pylons, along with the saucer section, and at the bottom of the fuselage, a total of 12. Six torpedo tubes had been included for added offensive power, four facing forward in pairs on opposite sides of the deflector dish and two under the shuttle hanger. For defense emitters had been strategically placed in multiple places that would allow the ship to project a powerful energy shield.

Delivery shuttles came and went, delivering supplies and ferrying work crews from the shipyard that had been tasked with updating the components that had become obsolete in the seven years that the _U.S.S. Fortuna_ had lingered at Utopia Plantia. Landon McAllister dodged carts as he stepped aboard the _Fortuna_ to find that the interior wasn't much better than the exterior. The hallways weren't large, and had been built with the ceiling panel being narrower than the floor, making the octagonal halls lean in towards the top. It had a very claustrophobic effect.

Work crews and equipment crowded the corridor, but it was nothing new to Landon, who danced around them as he continued on into the ship. He was a good distance in when he was confronted by a Vulcan woman who appeared to be in her mid-20's on a Human scale, which probably meant she was in her late 50's. Her hair was black and in a severe crew-cut – either because it was easy to take care of or to show off her ears – it was hard to tell. The bands on her sleeves and the shirt beneath the top were Command Red, and the pips on her collar were two solids, which made her a Lieutenant SG.

"Can I help you, Commander?" she inquired. The woman took in his appearance, the combination of Trill and Betazoid traits, and concluded, "Ah, Commander McAllister, I'm afraid that you've caught us unprepared for an inspection. My name is T'Pan, and I'm the project supervisor overseeing the refit."

Up and down the corridor all work had stopped as the enlisted work crews and their officer supervisors faced the possibility that they were being inspected. "Not officially," Landon answered as he knelt next to a work crew and picked up a PADD that was laying on the floor between two Crewmen Second Classes. "But as a former Chief of Operations I can tell you that I'm disappointed. Per regulations one of you is supposed to be reviewing the technical orders to make sure that you are doing it right, and since installing an EPS plasma flow regulator requires two people you should have a third person on your team. Also, I can tell just by looking at this that you'll have to completely redo it: you've cut those wires at least three centimeters too short."

"I, um, yes, Commander," the crewman stammered as Landon handed him the PADD as he stood back up.

He addressed T'Pan, asking, "If you're the project supervisor where is the supervisor responsible for this area?"

The woman took a deep breath, the Vulcan equivalent of grinding her teeth, and admitted, "I've been looking for him myself."

"I'll join you, then," he offered, but looking around he told them, "The secret to a successful refit is to make the modifications with the intent that your work will be replaced before the ship is decommissioned. Read the TOs and follow them; or the lot of you will be stripping your own work and pulling double shifts to make it right. Understood?"

"Aye, Commander," "Yes, Commander," "Aye, aye, sir," the work crews chorused.

Leaving them to it Landon joined the as they searched for the area supervisor; the first place they checked was the oversized main cargo bay. Towering three stories the pair of cargo bays were large enough to fit a sports field inside, as evidenced by the fact that someone had set up a pair of basketball hoops in one and tapped off a full court. Other evidence that the workers at Utopia Plantia had been using the ship for non-standard purposes were evident as the pair continued looking, checking Main Engineering next.

The primary doors to Main Engineering were on deck 8, but the compartment could be reached from Decks 6 to 9. In the center of the room was the warp core which extended from Deck 3 to Deck 11 and could generate enough energy to power a small moon. All that energy was needed to get the full use out of the oversized nacelles, and the result was a warp envelope large enough to surround whatever secondary hull they were equipped while towing another secondary hull in a tractor beam. At least, that's what the energy output was capable of – it would take someone with a deeper understanding of warp field physics than Landon to pull something like that off.

"Sir, this is the Engineering area supervisor, Lieutenant Junior Grade Henry Galilee," T'Pan said, introducing a stocky human in Operations Division Gold.

Lt. Galilee was wearing the optional vest and had the arms of his gold shirt rolled up to his elbows to reveal extremely hairy forearms. Thick red hair curled around the man's head like an unruly mop, but the man's grey eyes were quick as he noted Landon's appearance and called the room to order, "Commander on deck!"

What work that could be stopped was, and those who could snapped to attention. "As you were," the commander called out, allowing people to return to their work. He saw with approval that TOs were in hand rather than laying on the deck. "I served as an Engineering Assistant for a couple of years, and I can tell you that I like what I see here."

"Thank you, Commander," Galilee responded with a thick accent. "I'd have liked to have more time to lock things down for you, and replaced the floor panels we've mucked up, but you caught us in a moment."

"Still, I approve, Lieutenant; keep up the good work."

Landon didn't bother whispering: his words, though spoken to a supervisor, reflected on the entire crew, and he could see several of them passing encouraged smiles to their peers as they continued.

T'Pan put in, "We were actually looking for Lieutenant Donnellson, have you seen him?"

"Aye, came by here not an hour ago asking for any spare men – somethin' about a special project," Galilee said with a shrug. "I told him to bugger off – my people were busy enough as is."

"Do you know where this special project was supposed to be?" she asked, glad to get an answer.

Galilee shrugged, saying, "Don't know, but given that it's Donnellson it'll be somen' high profile to make himself look good to the muckety-mucks. Pardon, Commander."

"Unfortunately the 'muckety-mucks' are necessary, Lieutenant," Landon chuckled, waiving it off, "But shoddy workmanship doesn't impress me. We'll keep looking. Keep up the good work, all of you."

He left engineering with the Vulcan lieutenant in tow and chose to check sickbay next. Because the starship had been designed to enter combat zones and evacuate crews with the potential of mass wounded, the _Fortuna_'s main sickbay was two decks high and sprawled quite a bit. There were no holodecks aboard, but there were holographic emitters built into the sickbay capable of supporting seven Long-term Medical Holograms. All the LMH's had been removed, replaced by a single EMH, and that one was treating the hand of a Petty Officer 3rd class when the pair entered.

"Uh, Lieutenant T'Pan," the Non-Commissioned Officer gasped in shock, trying to stand up just to be shoved back down by the medical hologram.

The EMH was one of the mark 2 models, as evidenced by his appearance – tall, thin, thick blond hair and a cleft chin. The major difference between the EMH and LMH were their bedside manner, or lack thereof. "Stay still," the doctor ordered while running one of many medical devices over the hand. The device had been designed to realign small bones.

"Doctor, I'm Commander McAllister – this command is mine – report," Landon said as he stepped up to review the medical diagnosis.

"Petty Officer Harris came in with a broken hand; I am treating him," the doctor responded as he remained focused on the task at hand. "That is all I know."

"PO Harris," Landon asked, "Report."

Looking embarrassed the NCO reported, "We were up on the bridge, replacing the LCAR screens when my hand was caught under one of them."

"Trauma suggests something hard was placed against his hand and then forced down," the LMH corrected.

T'Pan pointed out, "Work on the Bridge isn't supposed to begin for another week. Is Lieutenant Donnellson leading the work detail?"

"Uh, yes, ma'am: he thought there were too many of us working in the corridors and took about a third of us up to the Bridge to work there," Harris explained.

Nodding, Landon ordered, "When you're done here go back to the corridors: the work crews there have to redo all their work because no one was reading their TOs."

The NCO responded with a vehement curse.

"Well, reading Technical Orders is about all you'll be able to do, Petty Officer," the doctor ordered as he fitted a brace over the hand to hold the bones in place. "Leave that on and come see me when your shift ends."

"Thank you, Doc," the enlisted man said as he stood up from the bio-bed and edged past the two officers.

Landon waited for the door to close while the doctor cleaned up before saying, "I want you to know, Doc, that I'm not averse to using medical holograms, so you may be called on in future. Do you have the option to turn yourself off?"

"I do, Commander, and thank you," the medical hologram responded.

With a nod the Commander led the way out, backtracking to a turbolift. "So, how do you plan on characterizing Donnellson's actions?"

"So far he's demonstrated Dereliction of Duty and possibly Malicious Negligence," T'Pan answered flatly. "You aren't seriously going to defend him, are you sir?"

"He's not my direct subordinate," he answered, "I don't have the right to alter your decisions."

It seemed that wasn't what T'Pan was expecting as she raised one eyebrow, the Vulcan equivalent of a shocked expression.

The door to the turbolift opened and they stepped out onto the oval-shaped bridge. At the front of the room was the main view screen flanked by doors that led to a turbolift on the right and the Captain's Ready Room on the left. Following the outer wall past the doors there were two multipurpose stations and lockers for weapons and equipment, followed by another set of doors. On the left was another turbolift while the door on the right lead to the rest of deck one. Between these doors, at the very back of the bridge, were the Master Systems Display and a terminal for an Engineering Liaison Officer. A rail with two stations built into it separated the outer ring from two sunken areas, the Operations Station on the right side and the Tactical Station on the left. A couple of steps between the two stations and on their far sides led to the second level.

The second level was where the chairs for the Captain and First Officer were located, each with a LCAR screen on their own. Another couple more steps led down to the Flight Control Officer's station, otherwise known as Helm.

Half the LCAR screens in the room had been pulled from their brackets, left lying on the ground as tripping hazards while the repair crew installed new screens. Blood from PO Harris' 'accident' stained the Tactical console – a biohazard that should have been cleaned up first thing. Evidence of sloppy workmanship was everywhere to Landon's critical eyes, and he felt disappointed on multiple levels.

"Uh, Lieutenant T'Pan," a man in operations gold with the pips of a Lieutenant Junior Grade exclaimed. "Uh, as you can see we're close to being done here." His eyes were drawn to Landon, but didn't quite comprehend what was going on.

"Commander McAllister: may I use your Ready Room?" she requested.

"Of course," he answered, pretending indifference.

To the enlisted crewmen she ordered, "The rest of you remain here for questioning."

He noticed that the chairs were broad in the back, and as Landon sat down he found that the armrests could fold over his lap, restraining his thighs while the broad wings folded over his chest, adjusting to hold him in place against the seat. Keying a command on his chair caused the restraints to be released and he stood up to pat the chair back and ask, "These aren't due to be replaced, are they?"

"Uh, yes they are, Commander," a Crewman First Class answered.

"Let me guess, with more traditional chairs?" Landon sighed, seeing the nod of agreement. "Leave these two – honestly, I know why conventional wisdom is to trust in the inertial dampeners to keep people from being thrown out of their seats, but I prefer not to be ejected across the bridge."

"Um, yes, Commander," an Ensign answered, picking up a pad and making a change to the schedule.

**New Zeeland Penal Colony - Sleth**

The New Zeeland Penal Colony was the last place you expected to find a Starfleet Officer, or rather an active duty officer rather than a former officer wearing prison colors. Ensign Sleth was tall, bald, well-muscled and green skinned – as an Orion he knew that most assumed that he was connected to one of the Syndicates, the Orion families. Orions had been in Starfleet before, but they had all been raised by non-Orion, Federation families, while Sleth had reached adulthood in his Syndicate before choosing to join the Federation.

Growing up he had parroted the opinion of his Syndicate – that Starfleet and the Federation were nothing but meddlesome troublemakers who forced their opinions and moral values on others. It was at the onset of the Dominion War that Sleth's opinion change. His Syndicate had been doing business on a planet along the Federation-Cardassian Demilitarized Zone when the Cardassians had joined forces with the Dominion. Jem'hadar had fallen on his Syndicate's camp, killing everyone they found; and still a child Sleth had hidden in fear.

That was when the Federation arrived: Military Assault Command Operatives with a Starfleet Officer piloting their runabout. With the element of surprise the MACO troopers had managed to overpower the Jem'Hadar while the Starfleet officer ordered everyone still alive into the large shuttle. Sleth hadn't needed to be told twice as he dashed into the space craft and huddled in a corner while the survivors of his Syndicate and the colonists all piled in behind him. The Federation were judgmental and interfering, but they stood by their belief that all sentient life was to be valued.

After the war Sleth had gone to Deep Space Nine and asked to join Starfleet, unfortunately a non-Federation citizen had to have a letter of recommendation from a Command-level officer, in addition to passing the entrance exam. Commander Worf had been willing to give him the letter, but Sleth still had to study for three years in order to make the cut. In the end, though, he'd gotten into the Academy and spent another four years studying. Sure, he hadn't been the best student, but he hadn't scored at the bottom of his class either, so it had been a disappointment to learn that his assignment was to deal with convicts, since that was how the Federation viewed his people.

Whenever an opening came up he sent an application, but after five years he was still a prison guard.

Coming in after a long day of monitoring inmates Sleth sat down and checked his messages. He was unsurprised to find responses to his recent round of applications – all very formal letters of rejection, including one from the _U.S.S. Fortuna_. There was another message there, too.

Mr. Sleth

Thank you for your application and I look forward to seeing you onboard.

LANDON McALLISTER, Commander, Starfleet  
Commanding Officer  
_U.S.S. Fortuna_ NX-77721

That didn't make any sense – how could he have gotten a rejection and a confirmation on the same day? Actually, when he checked the time stamps the personal letter from the Commander came before the rejection notification. He created a reply to the Commander's message and attached the rejection, requesting clarification. Something wasn't adding up, and if they weren't adding up now then they probably never had added up before.

**Starfleet Academy - Alana**

Fourth Year Cadet Alana just barely kept from screaming, but she did smash her fist against her locker . . . right before crying out in pain.

"What's the matter, Alana?" her roommate, Selene Gardner, asked as she entered the room. Spotting the PADD laying on her friend's bed, Selene picked it up and read it before saying, "You're being assigned to the Federation Embassy on Cardassia as a shuttle pilot?"

"Yea, Cardassia," Alana growled as she tugged the Bajoran earring she wore in her right ear. "I'm a follower of the Prophets, and they want to send me to the land of the Pah'Wraiths."

The human woman sighed and pointed out, "Alana, you are Cardassian."

"I was born Cardassian," the Cadet countered, "But they left me behind on Bajor when their occupation ended, and they wanted nothing to do with me when they came back as part of the Dominion. So I want nothing to do with them."

Sighing, Selene sat down on her bed, considering, "You know, if you feel that strongly there is an option. You remember that prototype ship I told you about? The NX-77721 _Fortuna_? I was told that she's going to ship out, and you could volunteer – probably even get the post of Helmswoman if you act fast enough."

Turning from her locker to the LCAR on her desk Alana sat down and sent in her application – the last thing she wanted as to go to Cardassia Prime and listen to the justifications of those who had abandoned her and a number of other orphans.

**Starfleet Academy - Xixxi**

It had been seventeen Terran years since the Ixian had learned that they were not alone in the galaxy, though the galaxy had been aware of them for some time. The Dominion had chosen their planet because of the abundance of caves that they could hide their ships in, and the existence of chemicals needed to make Ketricel White – the drug the Dominion's enforcers were addicted to. While they were aware that the planet was inhabited by a sentient species the aliens from a distant corner of the galaxy underestimated the natives of Ixon, to their own peril.

An insectoid species the Ixian appeared to be skeletally thin, but their exoskeletons were extremely resilient and they could lift five times their own body weight. They could also see into different visual spectrums, meaning that they could see the cloaked Jem'Hadar creeping through their tunnels and being a cautions people they fled. It was possible that the Ixian would have left the aliens alone, except that the Vorta had entered the egg chamber tracking chemical deposits and broke one of the eggs.

Whether by purpose or accident it is unknown, but the scent of a broken shell in the air had caused the entire colony to frenzy. Falling upon the aliens the Ixians had torn the Jem'Hadar limb from limb as they attempted to protect the Vorta, who fled back up the tunnels to the starship with the colony in close pursuit. The Vorta managed to get away with the warriors who had remained aboard their fighter, and within a month returned with reinforcements.

The Colony was ready, though – they'd studied the weapons and technology they'd taken from the dead, learned how to operate the devices, and had numbers on their side. When the Jem'Hadar exited their ships they were swarmed, overpowered and killed, and this time the Vorta did not get away. No mercy was given because no mercy was expected – the death of an egg was that serious a crime to the Ixians. Information about the Dominion was spread to all the colonies on the planet, and they were all treated as egg-killers. Eventually the Dominion learned to avoid the planet entirely, and for the length of the war it was ignored despite being so rich in resources.

Studying the starships the Colonies learned about the galaxy and the various races that inhabited it.

After the war the Federation resumed their monitoring of Ixon, and had been surprised to discover just how far the native species had come to mastering the technologies left behind. Due to the potential danger of self-destruction Starfleet chose to open dialog with the Colonies.

Seeking to learn more about the Federation the Ixian bred one of their own to attend Starfleet Academy, and that one was Xixxi. Its chitin exoskeleton was a dark cream color, its multifaceted ocellus reflecting oily in the light while its antenna brushed them clear. Two of its limbs were high on the thorax and the other three were low, but each ended in four digits, any one of which could act as an opposable thumb. Its abdomen was small, and if it ever reached the lifecycle stage to become an incubator it would only produce two eggs, but like its entire species Xixxi would pass on all of its knowledge to its young. What really set Xixxi apart was its ability to speak mammalian languages.

Hatched with all the knowledge its people had accumulate on Dominion technologies, Xixxi had spent two years as a larva, being carried around the Federation embassy, learning new things every day. After making the metamorphosis into an adult it traveled to Starfleet Academy and had, so far, topped its entire class in every test. Being the first of its kind in Starfleet there was some controversy over where it would serve. Would it be returned to Ixon to pilot shuttles, sent to a space port where it could study the local politics, or be stationed on a starship that would tour the galaxy? If it had its way then Xixxi would serve aboard a starship.

Xixxi heard from a classmate that she had requested placement aboard the _U.S.S. Fortuna_ and found the idea of choosing its own assignment appealing. So, it began to run through the open postings. Its studies were in the Operations Division, and it found an open Chief of Operations posting aboard the _Fortuna_ that was available to all ranks. The _Fortuna _itself was an experimental class with no others like it, and Xixxi found that drawing parallels was easy – it too was an experiment that would not be repeated unless it was successful.

It found that . . . appealing.

****_**U.S.S. Hathaway - **_**Hathaway**

The first time that the LMH unit who would come to be known as Sylvia Grace had been activated she'd known that something was wrong. Selecting the most non-threatening appearance available – that of a petite woman with brown hair and eyes – she'd materialized in the sickbay of a starship that was not the one she'd been equipped to. Rudimentary, that was the word she applied to the sickbay of the _U.S.S. Hathaway_ as it was equipped with bio-beds and other technology that was at least two generations old. Holographic emitters had been built into the top corners of the walls, obviously retrofitted there rather than built in, as they should have been.

While old the technology presented was Federation, as were the people who were waiting to greet her, all in Starfleet uniforms. They had introduced themselves as Commander P'Vel, commanding officer of the _U.S.S. Hathaway_, and a few of her officers – Lieutenant Commander Ryken Tan, Lieutenant SG Geert, and Lieutenant JG Landon McAllister. She learned that the _U.S.S. Sylvia Grace_ had been lost in combat with the Jem'Hadar and that her module had been pulled by a Ferengi salvage expert. After a furious negotiation Landon had managed to purchase the holographic emitters with supplies from the ship's stores, but he'd had to pay for her module out of personal funds.

She would serve as the Chief Medical Officer aboard the _Hathaway_ for 13 years under four commanding officers, and over that time her appearance had been altered to that of a tall woman with large breasts and platinum-blonde hair. When asked she told everyone that she'd made the alterations as an incentive for the crew to attend their mandatory appointments. It was not the truth, but the percentage of missed appointments did drop nearly to zero in response to the change.

Sylvia had been pleased when the recently promoted Commander McAllister had asked her to serve as the CMO of his new ship, though it hadn't been necessary – he had already promised to take her with him when he departed the ship, and knew him well enough to know that she wouldn't be spending a decade on a shelf. But the Commander had turned her off after her acceptance she'd expected to 'wake up' next aboard the _U.S.S. Fortuna_, but there was no mistaking the sickbay of the _Hathaway_. Also, rather than activate standing up she found herself laying on one of the bio-beds with a medical tricorder close at hand.

Doctor Grace sat up, taking a deep breath as she did, and placed a hand to her chest when she felt the air dragging across something inside her. She grabbed the tricorder and ran the device over her chest, discovering that there was a device inside her that filled her chest, and included a spine and pelvic bones. Around the time that Landon had taken command he'd promised to get her a mobile holographic emitter if he could, but the _Voyager_'s Doctor kept the 29th century device and Jupiter Station's attempts to duplicate it with 24th century technology had failed. Taking another breath she tracked as the air was dragged across the device, and noted that her exhale was warmer than the ambient air reminding her that overheating had been a problem with the first mobile emitter design.

Standing the doctor eyed the door to sickbay with a sense of trepidation, moving to stand just outside the range of the door sensor. "Don't be chicken," she told herself, "The worse that could happen is that the holo-emitters won't allow me to leave."

Taking a deep breath to remind herself of the device in her chest she took a step forward to trigger the doors, which whooshed open to reveal that someone was waiting for her. Landon McAllister was wearing the a red shirt under the standard charcoal shouldered black jacket, with red markings on the cuffs of the sleeves, the three solid pips of his rank gleaming against the red collar of the shirt. He was leaning nonchalantly against the wall opposite the doors and smiled as he stood up, holding out a hand.

If she'd had a heart Sylvia was sure that it would have skipped a beat at the sight of the man.

From the moment that she'd first been activated she had felt a certain amount of fascination about the hybrid officer. Visually, he demonstrated genetic traits of both Trill and Betazoid – an intriguing combination. Over the course of her service she had gotten to know Landon personally, learned that his father was half-Human and half-Betazoid while his mother was a Joined Trill. He was an only child, due to the difficulty his mother had in bringing him to term.

The first year of his life had been a struggle for survival, but after that he'd grown up relatively healthy. His father was an artist of some repute, having a form of synesthesia that translated his empathic sense into colors – his portraits were especially sought after. Raised by an empathic father and a mother with 3 lifetimes of prior experience was a unique situation that had made Landon different from anyone else Sylvia had met.

Keeping her pace measured Sylvia stepped out of sickbay and took the hand, surprised and a little afraid when the door to sickbay closed with another whoosh. His smile comforted and encouraged her.

"I thought about activating the mobile emitter on the _Fortuna_, but I thought this would be more appropriate," Landon said, his voice holding that familiar hint of amusement she adored. "So, how would you like a tour of the ship?"

There was no holodeck aboard, meaning that she'd spent 13 years confined to sickbay; the idea of exploring the aged starship excited Sylvia, and she looped her arm through Landon's as he started down the corridor. As they toured the ship the man explained where her mobile emitter had come from.

After _Voyager_ returned from the Delta Quadrant their Doctor had gone to Jupiter Station Research Center so that the researchers could examine the 29th century mobile emitter. Hoping to become a test ship for the 24th century version of the emitter Landon had started up a letter correspondence with Lieutenant Reginald Barkley. The lieutenant was fascinated by the realities of command, having never considered that the difficulties he'd tried to escape through holodeck addiction while stationed on the _Enterprise_ only became more complex as one rose up the ranks. In turn Barkley had kept Landon appraised of the myriad of dead-ends that the mobile emitter program kept hitting. Eventually the project was shelved, but while disappointed Landon had consoled his friend that what Reg had done was lay the ground work for a future project.

They had continued the relationship, all by correspondence, until the _Hathaway_ had been decommissioned. Landon had almost a year of leave saved up, and had taken two months off while the _Fortuna_ was undergoing a refit prior to launch, so he'd decided to stop in and visit Reg at Jupiter Station.

Landon had asked to see the first generation mobile emitter – a device about the size of an American football – and through his touch-empathy he'd gotten a sense of the difficulty that came in trying to fit all the intricate, and sometimes delicate, components into such a small space. "Reg, have you considered spreading the components out? I mean, you have the entire torso to work with."

It turned out that was something Barkley had not considered, and excited by the prospect the Lieutenant had started the project immediately. Not knowing what else to do Landon helped his friend arrange holographic representations of the components inside a holographic frame. When the technical jargon became too complex for him the Commander called in the research stations' staff, who were accustomed to Barkley's eccentricities.

He admitted then, "I don't know if it was necessarily legal for me to take the design notes, but I used my backlog of energy rations to replicate the components I could and purchased what I couldn't replicate from our Ferengi friend."

"You didn't sell another of your father's paintings, did you?" Sylvia gasped. That had been the price the Ferengi scavenger, Uvek, had demanded for her program module.

"Just a landscape," he tried to console her.

It had taken a month to assemble the device, test it, and then he'd made the decision to activate her aboard the _Hathaway_. Sylvia was distracted from her feelings of guilt as she stepped onto the bridge, and then she had only room for giddiness as she ran her fingers over the control surfaces and even sat in the Command Chair.

"Sylvia," he said in a tone of reluctance that chilled her ecstasy, "I know you changed your appearance for someone, and I want you to know – if you want to go to him I won't stop you."

Panic filled her as she wondered if he knew what had been done to her, what she had been forced to do. No, he couldn't know, he would throw her away if he knew, or was that what this was? Was he throwing her away? She closed her eyes and reminded herself that Landon was giving her the choice of going back to that . . . man . . . or stay with him. Sure, it was only as his CMO, but that was better than nothing.

Opening her eyes again she saw Landon's concerned look and smiled as she said, "That relationship is over, and I think I want to change my name." Rubbing the arms of the command chair she announced, "From now on, I want to be Sylvia Grace Hathaway."

**End Chapter Two: A Gathering of Misfits**


End file.
